Thanksgiving was beautiful. It was just us and my parents. Dad made turkey because Mom is turkey crazy on Thanksgiving. I don’t really understand because I’m not a fan, but I love that Dad does this for her.
It’s their way.
Dad has psoriatic arthritis. He hurts all the time. But he never complains. Last year Mom was in the hospital with MRSA. She missed Thanksgiving and Christmas at home, and Dad was all out of sorts not making the turkey for her.
It was good to eat turkey and cranberry salad Mom made. Mom made the cranberry salad in spite of tremors that make chopping tough. Actually the salad isn’t easy to make without tremors. She made it anyway. Because Dad made turkey, and cranberry salad is a must if there’s turkey.
So we ate a delicious Thanksgiving lunch that wasn’t about eating but was about spending time with each other, and that was beautiful.
I’d tried to convince them to go out since it was just us. I mean you cook for hours and hours and eat in twenty minutes.
But that’s the point, isn’t it?
It’s giving and sharing and talking and laughing and cleaning up and laughing and then sitting around the table playing dominoes. They taught us how to play Moon. And as we played they laughed and reminded us about Grandma and Grandpa loving that game. They did love to play games, especially domino games and Skip-Bo.
And that’s Thanksgiving too. Memories of loved ones who have passed. Memories in the recipe for cranberry salad and how they loved to eat the turkey skin and how their pie crust was better than store bought and how they ate cornbread soaked in buttermilk for a treat.
Thanksgiving was beautiful. Thanks, Mom and Dad.
Oh NaNo. I had such sweet hopes for our relationship this November. October had other ideas.
Here we are 8 days in to our NaNo fun and I’ve written zero NaNo words.
It’s okay though. October’s work is slowly moving toward conclusion.
Looking forward to you, NaNo.
Another day, another mass shooting. I’m writing this more than a day after a gunman walked in with a Rugar AR-556 rifle and slaughtered almost 30 innocent people as they wrapped up service at First Baptist Church in Sutherland Springs, TX.
And in hours since I’ve heard “there’s nothing we can do about this except arm ourselves” more times than I can count.
As if more guns is a real answer for anyone other than gun manufacturers making huge profits on the loss of innocent lives.
It’s time for us to talk about real gun regulation in this country. I’m sure we won’t. Instead we’ll talk about thoughts and prayers and armed guards at the doors of our churches and open carry in the coffee shop, and politicians will scream about the “politicization” of a gunman mowing down innocents–as if the politicization of everything from oatmeal to socks wasn’t their stock in trade. And we’ll see a surge in gun sales for these kinds of guns and the magazines that allow this kind of killing and the contraptions that turn these lethal weapons into machine guns all of which will continue to be legal because “the 2nd Amendment, man. The 2nd amendment.”
And I’ll still get messages about why we need to be armed in case our government tries to take over our government. And it’s all Obama’s fault. And guns don’t kill people, people kill people.
And there will still be the dead and dying in a tiny Texas town. Which will be in the news for maybe another day or two. Or maybe a week or two. Or maybe, if we’re really lucky, a month or two. Until the next mass shooting causes the same questions and non-answers and we do it all over again without ever really doing anything about it.
Heart broken and so, so tired of writing this post.
We’ve struggled finding a new church.
We thought we’d found one but then the preacher did a whole sermon on how if you’re a Christian you won’t have any problems parenting, and it became clear the man had never parented a day in his life. His wife parented. He golfed and hung out with the menfolk.
We thought we found others but their ministers equated republican with Jesus and that’s the opposite of biblical.
So we quit searching.
There’s the truth of it. It hasn’t been a struggle at all. It’s been a willingness to drop the church part of our lives.
It’s not a good thing. We don’t have our people. We don’t have the mentors and friends to do life with. We don’t have the fellowship and worship community. We don’t have the comfort and knowledge of a church home. And every time we’ve looked for it we’ve found politics and division and fake Jesus.
I don’t think we need a church to have a direct connection to Jesus. But a church gives us a family in Christ, and that we do need. At least I do. Especially in this season that is so hard.
This weekend I swore we were going to check out a new church. One in a denomination that has been outspoken to the fact that the church is meant to be the hands and feet of Jesus not a political mouthpiece for either US political party.
We got up with plenty of time to go, but we paused. We thought. We talked about it and we watched Meet the Press and Face the Nation and then it was too late.
I looked at the church website and saw they had a live feed just like our old church back home. We decided to check it out.
It was different, a little slower than what we’re used to, but the message was exactly what I needed to hear.
I don’t know if this will be my church. There’s a contact form on the website. I kind of want to ask them questions about their thoughts on politics and the church before I go. Today I think I’ll go Sunday. Today it’s easy to think I’ll go Sunday.